"..."
Quirrell fell silent.
He actually regrets ever going to Albania back then, but he doesn't dare think about it too closely. For a moment, this Professor of Muggle Studies is in a very complicated state of mind.
Other people's bosses at least give you hope for the future. But the boss he follows doesn't just skip the empty promises, he doesn't even provide emotional support, and even spends his servant's money without uttering a simple "thank you."
Anything that can restore life force is, frankly, expensive even on the regular market, let alone the black market. Quirrell could already feel himself being on the verge of bankruptcy.
To be honest, if it weren't for the fact that Snape's office had become a maximum-security area just because he couldn't figure out who stole a tiny bit of potion ingredients, Quirrell felt that he and Voldemort wouldn't be this passive right now. He even had to buy the ingredients for the magic potion he intended to poison Grindelwald with, paying out of his own pocket and brewing it in secret.
"Snape was never this wary of thieves before!"
The Professor of Muggle Studies sighed in frustration.
He just felt like his future was pitch-black and hopeless.
…
Snowflakes drifted gently onto the castle's spires and courtyard, draping this ancient magic school in a veil of white. Ice crystals sparkled on the branches and eaves.
Like countless stars, they decorated this quiet winter world. In the slightly chilly corridors, Ian and Aurora ran into quite a few classmates who were out and about.
These little witches and wizards were playing around the school, using various festive props, laughing and making noise. Naturally, though, there are always people who like to ruin the mood for others.
Filch, cursing and grumbling, always looked like he couldn't stand seeing anyone happy. Even though the little wizards hadn't broken any school rules, he still banged his mop and iron bucket around, making as much noise as possible.
"Clang clang clang!!"
Filch enthusiastically banged his mop against the iron bucket on the floor, producing piercing noise, and loudly made snide comments about the little wizards' lack of parental discipline. No matter how you looked at it, he just wanted to ruin everyone's fun with nothing but sheer spite, no matter that he had no good reason to interfere.
But when he saw Ian walking over, Filch finally toned it down a bit. His cowardly bullying of the weak and fearing the strong couldn't be any more obvious. He even dared to glare maliciously at Aurora, as if ready to bang his bucket and give the little witch a scare at any moment.
"Honestly, I don't like this caretaker either," Ian quickly whispered to Aurora. The German girl looked thoughtful, pulled out her magic wand, and gave a little flick in the direction of the iron bucket.
As soon as she finished, she grabbed Ian and hurried him away.
"What did you do?"
Ian hadn't caught Aurora's spell-casting just now, because he'd been distracted by seeing two older boys kissing by the window. So, as Aurora pulled him along, he felt vaguely uneasy.
Filch was definitely unlikable.
But he wasn't unlikable enough for students to go sneaking curses on him—at least not usually.
"I just gave him a Christmas present?" Aurora sounded less and less certain as she spoke, and Ian felt that the less sure she was, the bigger the issue. As it turned out, his sixth sense was spot on.
"Clang!"
Just as Ian and Aurora ran off, Filch's lips curled into a triumphant grin. He gleefully took up his mop and resumed banging the iron bucket, doing his best to ruin the little wizards' fun.
And then—
"Bang!!"
With a loud explosion—
Filch was knocked off his feet by his own iron bucket.
Ian caught a whiff in the air of something that had no business being in the magic world.
"Nitroglycerin!?"
The little wizard's eyes widened like copper bells.
"It was just a teeny bit." Aurora gestured with her hand—an amount that would outrage even the Great Cold Nether Country. Only then did Ian finally realize who was truly the most dangerous person in the school.
It's not him, not Voldemort, not Grindelwald, but this little German girl standing in front of him.
"Alchemy doesn't... usually use this sort of thing, right..." Ian had no idea why his voice got so small, but he knew Filch had already been blasted unconscious.
"I'm learning from the Muggles too—my grandfather insisted on it since I was little." Aurora looked back to make sure Filch was still alive, then replied with a bit of earnestness in her voice.
She obviously knew exactly how much was enough to teach someone a lesson without actually hurting them.
"Magic plus science! That's a real career path!" Ian gave Aurora a big thumbs-up. He figured Filch was lucky, because Aurora was a lot more restrained now than she'd been before the start of term.
"You're probably way stronger than I am now," Aurora said, glancing at Ian, tone firm. She was most likely judging based on how Ian had performed in the Forbidden Forest.
"Just a little," Ian replied, gesturing a modest amount. He wasn't enough of a faker to pretend it was as little as a grain of sand, but he had a pretty clear sense of Aurora's own magic power level.
After all, along the way—
Ian had a much better feel for magic power levels than most who didn't have the system. If his estimate was correct, Aurora is probably at Level 7 now.
After she becomes an adult she'll hit Level 8, House Head Level for sure, and maybe even beyond that if her bloodline and luck allow.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald didn't hit Level 9 right after becoming adults, either. Time, accumulated experience, and a second explosion of magic power—these are all essential to breaking through to Level 9, the human limit.